A Million Misdirections
by trascendenza
Summary: Darien, Bobby, Claire OT3 silliness that will hopefully develop into romantic silliness at some point.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: **This is written for the community **ot3100** on LiveJournal. Basically the premise is that you take 100 prompts and write 100 drabbles (that are exactly 100 words each) in response. I've decided to write this threesome as a loose series; the prompts will be written sequentially, though there may be time period jumps from one to another, or they may directly follow. I'm not sure how much of a plot there will be, but as it progresses we'll see; I'm letting my muse steer this one. Enjoy?

**001. Kiss**

"Beer? In the lab?" Claire had the decency to look scandalized.

"Where better?" Bobby wiggled the bottles under her nose

Darien tried to look serious but the eau d'alcohol on his breath didn't help. "Monotony is the kiss of death, you know. And we don't want you dying—"

"—we're unanimous that you dying would not be good—"

"—so we're here to save the day."

"I see you started without me," she said, snapping the latex off her hands and into the garbage.

She grabbed two bottles for herself, popped the tops and they clinked.

"Bottoms up."

**002. Hug**

Darien slung his arm around the skeleton, poking his fingers through the eye sockets. "He's cute, when'd you get him?"

"About the same time you stole my rat."

"Once a thief," Bobby mumbled moodily into his beer, shuddering when he saw Darien opening and closing the plastic jaw. "Leave that thing alone, partner, it's giving me the heebie jeebies."

"What, you don't like old Skeletor over here?" Darien wheeled him over and Bobby jumped behind the chair, lightning quick if wobbly. Narrowing his eyes, he put his hand on his gun.

"Any closer, I swear I'll blow its head off."

**003. Touch**

"Awwww, Skeletor was just trying to say hi, Hobbes, no need to get all riled up." He rubbed the skeleton's index finger against his chin thoughtfully. "Besides, doesn't She-Ra kick his butt?"

"You have a point, my friend. That means Keeps here gets the honors of offing him."

"No one will be blowing up or 'offing' my model," Claire said primly. "We have no budget for another."

When she punctuated her sentence with a hiccup, the boys shared a look and promptly executed a high-five that involved three hands, one plastic, and not one of which connected with its target.

**004. Love**

The "thank God it's Friday even if we never really get a day off" impromptu lab parties were starting to become the highlight of Darien's week. He would never admit it aloud, even under a forty's very persuasive influence, but Bobby and Claire were two of the best friends he'd ever had. It was like when a job was going really well, so well he could practically hear the _click_ as all the pieces fell into places. A flash, so brief, split-second synchronicity: what made the challenge worth it.

But there was no challenge here—just the _click—_perfect synch.

**005. Share**

"To think they fell for it," she said, licking the salt off and tossing back another shot.

"What," Darien said, foisting himself around in the chair to look at her, an incongruous sight in a blue labcoat accessorized with Jose Cuervo. "You wouldn't?"

"Most certainly not. It's the oldest trick in the book." She pointed the slice of lime at him. "And the most idiotic, I might add."

"What can I say?" Darien grinned. "The ladies cannot resist the sure-fire Fawkesian charm."

Claire and Bobby snorted simultaneously and Darien tried to look hurt, but his grin wouldn't fade fast enough.

**006. Fight**

"Will not."

"Will to."

"Will _not_."

"Will _to_."

"Boys."

"But Keepie—"

"No buts."

She rolled her eyes when they snickered. "Weren't we all adults the last time I checked?"

Darien and Bobby looked at each other, then down at themselves, and then back at her.

"That was a good one."

"Very good."

"She's got a smokescreen thing going, calling us 'boys' one second and then trying to guilt-trip us into being responsible with the 'we're all adults' line. Smooth operator."

"We better watch this one, partner."

"I call first watch."

"No, _I _call first watch—"

"No—"

"Boys!"

**007. Hide**

"C'mon c'mon c'mon c'mon," Bobby said, leaning in with a certified "I won't shut up until you give me what I want" smile.

"No," Claire said, withdrawing the needle. "You know as well as I do that it's only for missions."

"Yeah, Hobbes, you heard the lady. Besides, what's with the sudden need to be invisible?" He smiled, "You know you lose more hair every time I do it to you."

Bobby began to sputter but then narrowed his eyes, poking a finger squarely onto Darien's chest. "Ah ah ah. Trying to distract me from my original point, my friend."

**008. Left out**

"'Silver me. C'mon, I'm sure we can figure out something useful Keepie here can observe from it."

"Oh, yeah, you're right—what about we count every single hair on your head now, and then I quicksilver you everyday for a month, and then we can make it official and declare you 100 smooth as a baby's butt bald, huh?"

Claire put a hand on Bobby's shoulder before he could dignify that with a response. "Why do you want to, Bobby?"

He shot Darien a look and then leaned against the lab chair, shrugging, voice small. "I dunno. You got to."

**009. Moments**

"Yes," she said, nodding, "I did. To measure how long it lasts on a human subject and to observe and record the process first hand. Not for fun."

"So why can't I do a test? I can stay real still."

She looked at Bobby; his expression was like that of the boy who always got picked last for teams and then, Darien, who was giving her his "oh, come on and live a little" speech with his eyes.

She threw her hands up in a pleased sort of defeat. "Oh, alright. Come back tomorrow, I'll see what I can do."

**010. Dreams**

—_her hair looks beautiful even black and white—_

—_he's running his fingers through it, down his neck, thinking that he likes it, even if it is kind of puffy—_

—_she can't hear what he's saying but she's just happy to listen to his voice, because for once he doesn't need anything—_

—_and he can feel how warm her lips are even through the cold layer—_

—_massaging those tense shoulders, kid needs to learn how to take care of himself better, burn out real young he keeps up like this—_

—_talking somehow becomes kissing and she smiles into it—_

…they dream.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: **This is based on/loosely AU-ing the episode_ Perchance to Dream.  
_

* * *

  
**011. Hope**

She counted her breaths for the seventh time, desperately trying to slow down her thoughts so the doctors observing her could get their diagnosis. The sooner she got the treatment and everything was back to normal, the better.

But she couldn't.

She never slept well in a new place for the first time, and the reason she was here was unsettling in itself: the dreams were only becoming more and more vivid… and more and more inappropriate.

Bunching the blanket up between her legs, she started the breathing pattern once more, muttering under her it, "Stay away tonight boys. Please."

**012. Memories**

"He's going to kill me, Darien. I know it." Her breathing was shallow, her fingernails digging sharp into his hand.

"We'll get him, Claire. We're not going to let him get near you, I promise."

She closed her eyes, trembling. "I wish I could believe you. But every time I close my eyes…" She opened them again, fiercely bloodshot. "He's everywhere, Darien."

"He's just a man, Claire. A man that we're going to get." He took both her hands in his, resting his chin on their joined fists. "We will."

Her voice held no hope. "Not before he gets me."

**013. Future**

Bobby strolled into the lab, optimistic that this next lead would be it, but the air to whistle cheerfully was taken right out of his lungs by the sound of Claire crying.

Hanging back, he saw Darien, his arm around her shoulder.

"But how can you be so sure of something that hasn't happened yet?"

"I don't _know_!" She shrieked, struggling against her bonds. She gave up quickly, dropping her head. She spoke barely above a broken whisper. "I don't know."

"Shhhh," Darien said, stroking her hair. "It's okay. It's okay."

But from where Bobby was standing, nothing looked okay.

**014. Daring**

"Claire," Darien took her face in his hands, forcing her to look right at him. "It's going to be okay. Trust me."

When she opened her mouth to argue again, something snapped. He had to _show_ her that it would be okay, so he leaned forward and did the only thing he knew how when there weren't words: he kissed her.

About twenty million thoughts clamored for attention, ranging from _wow, soft lips _to _aww, crap, company pier_ to _wow… _really_ soft lips_.

Of course, the one thing he hadn't thought to freak out about was what won the battle.

**015. Panic**

He made a valiant attempt at pretending that _hadn't_ just happened, something Bobby Hobbes normally excelled at, but today it was nothing doing.

"I was just, you know," he said gestured back at the door, "leaving. Not that I was here. To see anything. Everything looks in order to me, so I'll just be on my way." He turned and did just that, walking out so fast he slammed his knee into the door, cursing. Ignoring Darien and Claire calling after him, he just kept right on walking all the way to the van, started it, and drove, drove, drove.

**016. Loss**

"Not right," he muttered, "Not right not right not right." He couldn't stop thinking about them, hands tangled in each other's hair, Darien starting to sidle up the chair like he was going to—no, not right. And with the lips, the closeness, the heavy breathing—

"Dammit, Fawkes! We're supposed to be _partners_," He said, banging his hand on the steering wheel.

A few minutes later, he squinted his eyes and shot his right hand out, stopped short by contact with an ice-cold invisible barrier that was coincidentally Darien-shaped.

The flakes of quicksilver sparkled off him, "But we are partners."

**017. Pet names**

"Invisible bastard," Bobby said, punctuating each word with a stab of his finger on Darien's chest. "You sneaky invisible lying bastard."

"C'mon Hobbes," Darien said, his usual shit-eating grin struggling to form. "You never told me the partner rule book said that kissing a girl broke the deal."

"That was no girl, Fawkes."

"Oh, no, she's definitely a—"

"Fawkes!"

"I mean, uh—what were we talking about? That vein throbbing on your forehead is distracting me."

Bobby screeched the van to a halt.

"Now who's being distracting, huh?" He said as Darien peeled his face off the window, smirking.

**018. Letters**

"Look," Darien said, rubbing his cheek. "Just tell me what's wrong before I actually start obeying the seat belt law, okay?"

"What, I have to spell it out for you?"

"Hmmm." Darien looked thoughtful for a second. "Yeah, I think you do, my Hobbes-crazy-talk-translator isn't working today."

Bobby gave a martyred sigh. "We're partners, Fawkes. P-A-R-T-N-E-R-S. You've been—you and—" the vein throbbed more prominently, "I wouldn't expect the Keep to tell me, but you're my partner, man. I tell you everything, and this is how—"

"Whoa, boy," Darien said, grinning for real. "You've got it all wrong."

**019. Calling**

"You saying Bobby Hobbes is liar? I may be many things, my friend—all of them highly overqualified for this job, I might add—but a liar is not one of them."

"That makes two of us." Darien ran a hand through his hair. "What I've been trying to tell you is that what you saw was _all_ there was to see."

"Then you two haven't…? You know," Bobby said, waggling his eyebrows and raising his hands to make what Darien guessed would be obscene gestures, so he spoke quickly.

"Exactly."

"No fishing from—"

"None. Totally unplanned."

"Ooooooooh."

"…exactly."

**020. Compromise**

"So…"

"One hundred percent unplanned."

"You don't even know—"

"Of course I did. And yes, I've seen her naked."

"You—"

"Without her knowledge, of course. I followed her—long story."

"So why—"

"Emotionally trying circumstances. Makes people act crazy."

"Would you just let me—"

"No."

"Why no—"

"Because you want to know why you can't kiss her, too. And the answer is no."

"You got to," Bobby grumbled, shooting him a look.

"True." Darien considered. When they stopped for a red light, he grabbed Hobbes by the shoulders and kissed him, fast and fierce.

"Better?"


End file.
